Set in 1978 New York, it’s a con movie with a microscopic attention to period detail - the clothes! the hair! the cleavage! - a cast that’s on fire, including Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence, and a true life scam plot that should keep you on the edge of your seat.

It’s also directed and co-written by David O. Russell who is on a serious hot streak after the Oscar-wining double whammy of The Fighter and last year’s Silver Linings Playbook both of which I loved.

Here he re-assembles several of those pictures’ stars (including an uncredited Robert De Niro who makes a brief but effective appearance) and they all give top-notch performances.

Indeed, the picture is being touted as a major awards contender and has landed seven Golden Globe nominations. To which I can only respond, what did I miss?

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The plot of American Hustle is very straightforward and hardly has high stakes [CTMG]

There’s no doubt that American Hustle is good fun, especially for connoisseurs of the era, with its often comical period detail and rollicking soundtrack, including tracks by Elton John, David Bowie and Paul McCartney and Wings (Live And Let Die, amusingly used).

The game cast relish going “the full Seventies” with ludicrous hair-dos, eye-sore outfits and extremely revealing necklines (were bras outlawed in the Seventies?).

The opening scene shows Bale’s paunchy, punchy con-man with-a-conscience Irving Rosenfeld carefully attending to his comb-over in front of the mirror with a tube of glue.

It’s funny but not that funny and hardly worth lingering over for more than a few seconds but the scene goes on and on, establishing Russell’s obsession with period finery at the expense of an exciting, cleverly plotted narrative - quite important in a yarn about con-men.

I suppose Russell is making a point about appearances being deceptive (deception being the big theme of the film) but his ideas are only going to hit home if we’re absorbed in the story he’s telling and American Hustle just doesn’t work hard enough, or hustle enough, for our attention.

At its heart is the relationship between Irving and his partner-in-crime, a one-time stripper from New Mexico, Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams), who like him is a survivor adept at reinventing herself.

They set up some kind of scam loan company, fleecing underworld types who pay a hefty upfront fee in return for a loan that never materialises.

How the pair get away with it without retribution is anyone’s guess which is rather indicative of a picture more concerned with mood, style and character than narrative detail.

The problem is the characters aren’t hugely compelling or sympathetic. Bale can do charismatic and intense but he can’t really do charming and his Irving is a strange creature and bit of a bore, a self-righteous con man.

He and Sydney are busted by an ambitious, amped-up FBI man Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper) who coerces them into helping him entrap some high level targets suspected of corruption, including a New Jersey Mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner) and a handful of politicians.

Irving is not comfortable framing politicians – he thinks it’s bad for the country’s morale after Watergate – and he experiences further disquiet when he starts to bond with Carmine, a family man and rather a decent guy.

Like Irving, we’re not exactly cheering on Carmine’s downfall which renders the thin story even less compelling. In fact there isn’t a proper villain.

The only real menace is provided by De Niro in his brief cameo as a Florida mobster’s right hand man whom the FBI are also hoping to entrap.

His single scene, in which he comes close to exposing the FBI’s “fake sheik” is the most tense and memorable.

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If anyone is the “bad guy” it’s Cooper’s aggressive and rather unhinged FBI man. Quite why he’s so belligerent and desperate is not explained. He acts as if he’s permanently stoked up on cocaine. Maybe that’s the reason.

None of this would matter if the story was more intriguing and clever.

However, the plot is very straightforward and hardly high stakes: we’re talking minor league embezzlement by a few greedy local politicos. The big reveal at the climax - who’s been conning whom - is pretty ho-hum, leaving us with the impression of a (literally) shaggy dog story.

A love triangle is mildly diverting but generates little real heat or emotion. Irving is married to off-the-wall single mum Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence on blazing form) but loves Sydney who in turn is obsessed over by Richie. I didn’t care who ended up with whom.

Still, for fans of the cast and the era there is fun to be had. Just don’t expect something on a level with the director’s recent work.